


We're Bad For Eachother, But We're Not Good For Anyone Else

by Wind_Writes



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Affairs, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Love, Lovers to Friends, Male-Female Friendship, Original Character(s), Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18739702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wind_Writes/pseuds/Wind_Writes
Summary: He's not her boyfriend and she wants nothing to do with his last name. She's not going to be his moral compass and he isn't going to tell her how to live her life. She slings beers and he slings orders and yet they can't seem to stay away from each other. FP Jones and Dottie Walker have a long a murky history, but at the end of the day they'll have eachother's back.A series of one-shots/ drabbles romantic and platonic running with canon and AU.





	1. Got Your Back

“Can I get another round, Dottie?”

“Already?” Despite her playful chiding, Dottie reached into the cooler and pulled out a couple of beers for Sweet Pea. They’d come in with high spirits after a successful run, made it to Centerville and back without Ghoulie interference, and it was easy to see they were going to be riding that high for the rest of the night.  “You better slow it down if you plan on lasting till close.”

Sweet Pea slid a couple of bills across the counter as he took the beers, they both knew the group was a long way from being in danger of having too much but there was no mistaking the bartender’s subtle warning. It was rare for Serpents to look at age, everyone required to pull their own weight and respect was earned by years of service instead of year of birth, but Dottie was different. She seemed to have a soft spot for the young kids, always went a little easier on them and did her best to try and keep them out of harm's way when she could. Sweet Pea wasn’t the only one without parental figures in the picture and it was nice to know that there was someone out there who had their best interests at heart. “What, you worried we’re going to get too rowdy?”

“Nope...because you guys know better than that.” Dottie just shook her head as he hit her with that boyish grin before turning away, the knowing look in his brown eyes as he headed back towards his friends. They’d all seen what happened when someone got a little too rowdy in her bar and none of them had any intention of being on the receiving end of her ire.

A flicker of regret crossed her conscience as she watched the young Serpent hand out the beers he’d bought before turning towards her register and ringing in the drinks. She had hopped the next generation would have been able to escape the dredges of the Southside, be able to rise about the crime and unsavory living situations, but they were a result of their surrounding. Just as she was, and the generation before her. 

“Let them enjoy it while they can.”

She’d always hated that saying, it’s implications always meaning the worst was yet to come. Hadn’t the Southside had it bad enough already? Didn’t they deserve break? Meeting FP’s eyes in the back bar mirror, Dottie pocked the generous tip Sweet Pea had left her; godbless that kid and whoever taught him to always tip his bartender. “Is that your way of telling me there is trouble coming?”

“Ghoulies are starting to get restless again.” A couple of his scouts had reported unrest from the rival camp; they’d caught sight of a few patrols making the rounds just after the kids had got back to town and FP knew it wouldn’t be long before the shaky truce dissolved.

Not bothering to ask, Dottie popped the top on FPs usual and slid it across the bar. Just the way he’d said it told Dottie her fears had been confirmed. She’d need to make sure the first aid kit was restocked and that the guys hadn’t cleaned her out of painkillers and lidocaine after the last round. “They’re still kids, FP.”

His frown lines deeped at her words, as if he’d failed to noticed that very obvious trait. “I know that.” It wasn’t lost on him that his rankings seemed to be getting younger by the day, the fresh faced youth of the Southside jumping at the idea of joining up with the Serpents or the Ghoulies. He didn’t like it, but if they were going to do it anyways he might as well make sure they pick the right side.

“Do you?” Dottie had never been shy at calling it like she saw it and when it came to FP Jones, she went out of her way to make sure he knew exactly what she thought. They’d come up through the ranks together, seen and done a lot of things that most people would never admit to, and she’d always figured that they owed it to each other to be each other's biggest critic.

“It’s hard to forget that when your own flesh and blood is one of them.” He couldn’t help but watch the young group in the mirror, their faces bright with laughter at something Fangs had said. He hated himself for letting his boy get caught up in this mess, but he was a Jones and if there was one thing they were good at it was living on the wrong end of the law.

Dottie knew FP didn’t make his decisions lightly, she’d have no respect for him as a leader if he did, but she couldn’t help herself from pointing it out all the same. “Just remember that there are a lot of Serpents with a driver's license.”

She knew Sweet Pea and Fangs needed the extra cash, both responsible for more than most teens should be, and that Jughead was trying to prove to his father he belonged amongst them, but Dottie would rather up their dime bag sales than have them make runs across town lines. Seniority or not, there were plenty of guys who’s asses spent more time on one of her bar stools than doing jobs and it wasn’t sitting well with her.

“Are you telling me how to run my gang?” The hum of the bar quieted at FP’s outburst, but Dottie didn’t flinch. The cool look in her green eyes reminding him just who he was talking too. The redhead had never been one to placate him, instead making sure her opinion of his decisions was well known, despite rarely stepping in to try and change them. She seemed to prefer to say I told you so instead of don’t do that. “The kids need to earn their spot. We all had to.”

FP’s words rang all too true to Dottie, her hand absently trailing the scar that ran from her ear to her collar bone. They’d all been were these kids were before, taking jobs that they shouldn’t be to prove a point, prove themselves. Just because she knew it was the way of their world didn’t mean she had to like it. “I never said they didn’t.”

“I’ll watch their back.” FP didn’t miss the way her eyes seemed to glass over for a moment, the way she traced the proof of his words. Sliding his hand across the bar to take a hold of hers, he ran his thumb across her dishwasher roughed knuckles. Dottie was a tough woman, one that he would be proud to go into battle with, but he knew she had a soft spot for the teens and wanted to do his best to ease her worry.

A half hearted smile graced Dottie’s lips as she looked at their joined hands, the line between their personal and professional relationship as blurry as ever. The history between them was long and varied and very little of it was clean, but he knew her as well as she knew him. “And who is going to watch yours?”

“Thought that was where you came in?” Their eyes held for a moment before Dottie slipped her hand from his grasp and walked towards the other end of the bar to check on her customers. FP took his time to appreciate her retreating form, that woman had a way of twisting him up on the inside a way no one else ever had but the ground the two of them stood on was anything but steady. Regretfully pulling his eyes from his bartender back to the reflection of his youngest soldiers, FP lips set into a firm line. He’d make sure his guys had extra coverage watching over them,  just like he knew Dottie would be covering him.

  
  



	2. Broken Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was more discussion about Jughead joining the Serpents than we thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riverdale rushes everything and I always hated the way they didn’t build up any other discussion between the Serpents about Jughead joining. This is just a drabble about what I’ve imagined the scene leading up to the Serpents showing up at Jughead’s playing out like.

She heard them before she saw them, or more accurately she heard Hotdog’s nails on her worn linoleum and knew Tall Boy wasn’t far behind. They were early, but given the recent turn of events, she wasn’t surprised. FP was in jail, his kid was back on the Southside and Tallboy was left to maintain control of an increasingly hostile group of men and women. Tensions between the North and Southside were growing faster than anticipated, and while FP was able to keep his thumb on the worst of it, Dottie didn’t think Tallboy had the same handle on them.

“Hey Hotdog, long time no see.” Coming down to the hairy mutt’s level, Dottie scratched him behind the ears, a moan of pleasure coming from Hotdog as he leaned against the red headed bartender for more. Dottie loved the dog, he was the closest thing she would get to having one of her own and she reveled in every moment she got with him. And he had good manners to boot, so she saw no problem with him hanging around the bar, health codes be damned.

“You saw him this morning.” Tallboy, like all the other Serpents, loved Hotdog but nothing like Dottie did. Straddling his normal stool at the worn bar top, the long haired serpent ran his work roughed hands over his face as a defeated sigh passed his lips. He was exhausted, people were chewing on him from all sides and all he needed right now was a drink and someone to tell him what to do. There had been a time where he had been jealous of FP’s status with the Serpents, but at this moment he’d trade anything to go back to just being number two.

“That’s longer than normal then.” Dottie could see the strain on Tallboy’s features from where she was on the ground, her long haired friend was obviously not equipped to handle everything that had been dropped in his lap. Giving Hotdog one last pat, Dottie righted herself and reached for a whiskey bottle, knowing beer wasn’t going to cut it for Tallboy.  “Go on boy, food’s in your bowl.”

Tallboy smiled as Hotdog obediently trotted off in the direction of his spot on the backroom, sometimes he swore that dog lived better than his mistress. Appreciating Dottie knowing him so well, Tallboy downed the drink she placed in front of him, the whiskey burning it’s way down as she refilled empty class he offered back. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“You figure out what you’re gonna do?” Tallboy sipped on the second glass Dottie had poured for him, the stress of the decision he had to make easily visible on his weathered features. Tallboy had never been a man that liked having to make the hard call, always referring the decision to FP, and now with FP not around Dottie knew he was struggling to make it. She had always figured that was probably why Tallboy never made it past number two, or better yet, never wanted to make it past number two; if he wasn’t responsible for making the call, no one could question him.

“Do I really have an option?” What he had to do seemed clear as day to him, but that didn’t make following through on it any easier. Some members of the Serpents would embrace the decision, but a much larger portion of the gang would hate it, question not only the kid’s loyalty but his own as well and the thought of that made him sick to his stomach.

“There are always options.”

Tallboy scoffed at Dottie’s lack of help, sloshing the whiskey around in his glass as he weighed her words. “Not when it comes to blood.”

Dottie knew where Tallboy was coming from, a legacy added a different wrinkle to the equation; while an off the street member would be easy enough to deny one that was connected by family was a little harder to write off, especially when said family member is the leader.

She could barely make out the arguing before the main doors as slammed against the walls, Dottie’s eye shooting to the bar entrance as Sweet Pea’s towering frame coming through first with Fangs and Toni not far behind. It wasn’t hard to tell there was unrest amongst the ranks, if Sweet Pea’s actions weren’t enough, she could feel his anger from where she stood. Fangs, while less outwardly hostile, was still visibly irritated and Toni seemed more irritated by her companions than with anything else. She felt for the pink haired girl, Dottie had been in her spot before and knew she was between a rock and a hard place when it came to taking care of two guys that were more like brothers than friends.

“This is bullshit” Pulling out his stool with more force than necessary, Sweet Pea dropped down at the bar and glared across as Dottie just stared at him, her impassiveness to his irritation frustrating him even more. Why was he the only one that saw how bad of an idea this was?

“Care to elaborate?” She knew exactly what had got the hot head all riled up, it’d been bugging him since the discussion had first started, but Dottie figured it was best for him the air out all his issues before the rest of the night continued.

Not giving her friend a chance to say anything, Toni offered up the information, the feel of Sweet Pea’s dark glare on her only making the smirk on her lips broader. “Sweet Pea is just pissed about Jughead being allowed to join the Serpents.”

“Who said he’s joining?” Un-willing to look at the young recruits, Tallboy just glared into his drink before taking a swing, focusing on the burn of the amber liquid instead of the impending decision. 

“He is FP’s son… we kind of just assumed” As one of the newer members, Fangs knew that he didn’t have the same clout that Sweet Pea and Toni did, or anything close to what Tallboy and Dottie had earned, but he understood Sweet Pea’s frustration and thought it was kind of bullshit that a northsider could be considered when he hadn’t lived through what the rest of them had.

Dottie liked Fangs, he was a good kid with kind eyes and appreciated the fact that he seemed to have a handle on his hot headed best friend. That would come in handy in the coming weeks. “You know what they say about assuming….”

Skipping over the beer cooler, Dottie reached for three age appropriate cans from the ice chest, Sweet Pea glaring at her as she placed on in front of each of them. “What’s this.”

“A Coke.” 

“I don’t want coke.” If he had wanted a Coke, he could have gone to the convenience store and gotten one. He needed a beer and this was the only place that would serve him. It was a perk of being a Serpent and dammit he wanted one more before the stench of the northside ruined this place for him.

“You’ve still got work to do tonight, I’m not giving you a beer.” Dottie had never had a moral issue with serving to the underage crowd, knowing that they’d get it somewhere if it wasn’t from her, but she wouldn’t encourage the drinking and then loading up on bikes and driving when they were still angry, she’d seen that end bad one too many times.

An uncomfortable silence settled around the bar, Tallboy lost in his thoughts as the rest of the brooded over what was to come, Toni finally turning to Tallboy and asking the question everyone had been thinking. “So, are you going to offer Jughead a spot?”

“Yes.” Reluctant as he was, Tallboy knew there was only one way to go about this. If the Serpents were going to stay on top, someone who had a less violent outlook on life than him needed to be involved and Dottie had made her opinions of being in charge blatantly clear years ago, so that resided him to one other option.

That had been the last thing that Sweet Pea had wanted to hear, the temper that had subsided in the intrum coming back full force as their leader confirmed the worst of his fears. “Come on Tallboy! He’s from the Northside, he isn’t one…” 

“Enough.” Temper equal to Sweet Pea’s erupting from the redhead, Dottie leveled a look on the three juveniles; she appreciated their frustration with the situation and understood their distrust of a kid that wasn’t from their side of the tracks, but their insubordination to a superior would not be tolerated.  “While FP is incarsirated, Tall Boy is in charge. What he says, goes.” While she was talking to all three kids at the bar she focussed on Sweet Pea, her green eyes not leaving him until he relented and dropped his glare to the coke can in front of him. “Jughead is a Serpent by blood. You don’t have to like him, but you will respect the rules. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes mam.” All three’s agreement rang in unison, none of them willing to meet Dottie’s eye while Tallboy grinned beside them. He’d never had kids for this reason, the arguing too much for him, but obviously Dottie had dealing with it down despite the fact she’d never had one of her own. He figured she would have made a good mother, at another time, in another life perhaps, but the skills still served her well in this life.

“Go round everyone up.”

Each of them grabbing their can, they slid off their stool and headed for the door to do their bartender’s bidding. Dottie watched as the three of them shuffled through the door, all of them glancing at her and Tallboy before disappearing. “I thought she said Tallboy was in charge?”, Fangs’ last words made her chuckle as she turned back towards her last remaining customer, the look on his face telling her he’d come to terms with his decision.

“FP isn’t going to want his son joining up.” FP wasn’t in line for any father of the year award, but he’d always tried to do the right thing about keeping his kid out of gang life. He’d told Tallboy that if any Jones was going to escape the claws of the Southside it was going to be Jughead and Tallboy couldn’t help but feel like he was dishonoring his friend’s wishes by offering his kid the spot.

Try as she might, Dottie wasn’t able to stop the wave of regret from surging through her system. She knew what FP’s wishes were, he’d told them to her many times, but the deck had changed. The moment FP let himself be put in handcuffs negated any wishes he had and now the priority was the Serpents. “What he wants went out the door when he got himself arrested.”

He knew you were right, and at least having Jughead in the gang would make it easier to keep and eye on him. “You coming?” Finishing off the last of his drink, Tallboy pushed back and righted his jacket. He still had to do a few things before he went to the Jones’ trailer and he wouldn’t mind the redhead's company.

There would be more than enough members there tonight, adding one more wouldn’t do much and Dottie didn’t think she could stand by and look at Jughead without thinking of FP and that wouldn’t help Tallboy do what he needed to do. “I’ll hold the fort down here.”

Understanding, Tallboy whistled for the first test and waited held the door as Hotdog lead the way back to the truck, offering the his friend a wave before following behind. Dottie waited till the echo of the slamming door was the only sound in the bar before pouring herself two fingers of whiskey; she’d need to make a visit the the jail and talk to FP before Jughead did. He’d be pissed, but she figured she owed him that much, especially since she was breaking one of the few promises she’d ever made to the man.

  
  



	3. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without input or help from fellow members, Dottie is able to secure the Wyrm from Hiram and give the Serpents a place to belong again. She thought FP would be happy when he heard the news, but when he shows up it’s obvious he has a different opinion.

Dottie spun a small circle in the center of the bar, her heart dropping into her stomach at the sight of it. The back bar mirrors were broken, all the liquor was gone, glasses had been shattered all over the floors, tables and chairs were in pieces and the remnants of their drug enterprise was standing right in the middle of everything. She had yet to venture down to the basement or upstairs to where the apartment was, at least she hoped it was still there, but her gut told her they were both in the same shape as the main level.

It was hers now, in all it’s white trash glory. The bar she gave her life savings and was sporting a few new bruises for. Not only was it her place of business now, but also her home. They’d done a real number on the place but her hope was that is was mostly superficial. She’d need t get the jukebox up and running and make sure the water was still working, but the electrical was on so that was a step in the right direction. A few hard clean up days and they’d have this place back up and running.

With Penny finally run out and the Fizzle Rock trade taking a sudden downturn, Dottie knew the market for the Serpents old stand by dime bags was there and the Wyrm would prove to be the always reliable front it had been for years. She’d need the money to pay off the loan and she knew a few more members that were hurting for some tax free income. And what Jughead didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The double stable doors creaked with age as FP let himself in, his scrutinizing gaze taking in a knocked out window and trash littering the floor before meeting Dottie’s eyes. So much for surprising him later; she should have known he’d find out about her new purchase one way or the other. “How’d you know I’d be here.”

“There are rumors in the ranks.” He’d hated that he had to hear through the grapevine about Dottie’s acquisition of the Wyrm instead of from her directly. He knew she’d been gameing to get it back since they’d been kicked out, afterall the Wyrm had been a huge part of the Serpents life, but the longer they were out of it the more he thought maybe it was for the best. He’d been trying to get that point across to the guys that were with him at the station, but once Fangs had let it slip that Dottie had gone alone to meet up with whoever was representing Hiram in the potential sale FP had tabled that conversation and lit out immediately to make sure she was ok.

Gently taking hold of her chin, FP’s dark eyes took in every mark he could make out in the dim bar lighting. A black eye, busted lip and he could see the bruising on her knuckles from a mile away, but there didn’t seem to be any evidence of serious injury. “What’s the damage?”

“I don’t need any retouch work done.” Dottie knew how lucky she’d been when the other side hadn’t shown up with their usual weapons. Even from the confines of prison Hiram was able to conduct business and he’d sent a couple of ghoulies to do his bidding. There had been some miscommunication in the beginning, but a few black eyes, fat lips and one spectacular broken nose later they’d come to understand each other.

“And financially?”

Shrugging off his concern about her financial standing now that she’d done business with Lodge, Dottie pulled her chin from his hold and took a turn around the room. “It’s an investment.” The Wyrm had meant everything to her and she couldn’t say she wouldn’t have given Hiram anything he wanted if it meant he’d hand over the papers. Memories of good times flooded her memory as she trailed her fingers over the still standing pool tables and righted a toppled chair; she even gave the hated stripped pole a fond look before opening her arms wide and foucing a bright smile on her friend. “It’s ours again. Finally.”

Having confirmed that she was in good shape, FP’s panic was easily replaced by the unease and irritation of her going through with the negotiations and purchase of the bar without consulting anyone. Without consulting him. Regaining control of the Wyrm told him Dottie and he were not on the same page of what the future of the Serpents was. “So I see.”

The smile she wore quickly slipped from her features and her brows furrowed at FP’s less than enthusiastic reply. “I thought you’d be happy about that.” In fact, Dottie had thought he would have been ecstatic about the development and would have showered her with gratitude once he’d found out.

“And why would that be?” He hadn’t meant to sound so cold, but there was no taking it back now. Yes, he didn’t necessarily want the Serpent’s to pick up where they’d left off before Hiram came in, but he might have been more willing to come to an agreement with Dottie if she had stopped to include him before going forward. He wasn’t sure if he was really mad about her buying the Wyrm or if something more self serving lingered.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because this is the Serpent’s home.” The FP standing in front of her wasn’t the same man she’d known all her life. The FP she knew wouldn’t be questioning the significance of the Wyrm, wouldn’t be passively reprimanding her. “Because this is the first step in re-establishing our control of the Southside.”

FP ran a hand through his hair in frustration, the conversation was quickly going in a direction he hadn’t wanted it to go. “My life isn’t just the Serpents anymore, Dottie.”

Dottie’s upper lip curled in disgust. “Like you’d let me forget that, FP.” She couldn’t help but rack her eyes over the uniform he still wore. The uniform he had no problem leaving on the floor of her tent a few nights a week before sneaking it back on and returning to the roll of lawman he seemed so enamored with lately. “You wear that fucking uniform like you used to wear the jacket.”

It always came back to the uniform. No matter how much he tried to explain why he’d taken the position or how many outcomes that had ended in their favor because of his new position, Dottie couldn’t see past the badge. “Things have changed. I’ve changed.”

“Snakes don’t shed their skin so easily.”

FP’s hackles rose as Dottie threw his own words back at him, the look on her face stoking the temper he’d been trying to keep locked down. “What did you think would happen? That you’d get control of the Wyrm and I’d just come back? Pick up where we’d left thing? With no thought to everything else that is going on?”

FP losing his temper was what Dottie had been hoping for, it gave her permission to lose hers. “I didn’t think past getting back this place. Getting back my home!” Her raised voice echoed through the mostly empty room, her eyes locked onto FP’s, both filled with equal anger. “In case you’ve forgotten, me and the rest of the Serpents have been living in fucking tents and fifth wheels while you live it up on the Northside.” If she was a less secretive person, she would have admitted that in some deep spot in the back of her mind she had hoped things would go back to how they had been. She had hoped that he’d drop the ridiculous cop act and come back to the world that he belonged in. Back to the people he belonged with.

“How could I forget that! You think I enjoy seeing us reduced to that after what we had?”

“I don’t know what you’ve been thinking recently! You haven’t been around for me to even venture a guess!” Advancing quickly towards FP, Dottie hit him with a few hard, well aimed pokes to the chest. “I thought you’d be happy, FP. Happy to have our old stomping grounds back. Happy to have some semblance of pride restored to the Serpents. Happy to have people, children, off the streets.”

“Did you ever stop to think about asking me my opinion?” And there is was, the truth. None of this had anything to do with the Wyrm or the future of the Serpents, but everything to do with her not asking him for his opinion. Her not including him in a life changing decision that would inevitable effect both of them.

Dottie stepped back as if FP had slapped her, a cold chill overtaking her at the realization that FP Jones had one concern at the moment, himself. “Bold of you to assume I care.”  He wasn’t here to celebrate the Serpents homecoming or to even check in on her to make sure she was ok. He was making it painfully clear where his priorities were at this moment and that he wasn’t happy that her independent decision had upturned his apple cart. “My life doesn’t revolve around you.”

“I didn’t…”

Raising her hand to silence any rebuke, Dottie turned on her heel and made a beeline for the stairs that lead to the apartment, her attention only turning back to him once she hit the first step. “I did this for me.” Her emotions were running on overdrive and she could feel the threat of tears burning her eyes. She had let FP seen a lot of her over the years, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.  “I don’t owe you, your feelings or your ego a goddamn thing.”

FP stood in the center of the disheveled establishment as Dottie disappeared up the stairs and slammed the apartment door, effectively delivering the message about where the two of them stood.


	4. All We Get

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a happy ending isn’t in the cards, sometimes you have to take what you can get, when you can get it.

Birds chirp as the early morning sun begins to rise above the rooftops, yellows and pinks peak through the bedroom curtains to bring a warm glow to bare skin, but the woman beside him doesn’t stir. **  
**

Dottie’s features are serene in sleep, her lips slightly parted and it takes all of FP’s self control to not kiss her awake. He loves moments like these the most, the strain of their individual responsibilities and stessers nowhere in sight and the only thing between them is a cotton sheet.

Not wanting to wake her just yet, FP studies the ink that adorns Dottie’s skin, the dark colors and designs a stark contrast to her fair complexion. He starts at the Koi fish that dance in a water scene across her lower back and slowly makes his way upwards to the flock of birds that fly across the tops of her shoulders that he knows carry over to make their way across her right shoulder blade. A half sleeve of vibrant watercolor style flowers decorates her right bicep and leads to the dark lined serpent and knuckle tattoos he can’t see since she’d buried her arms beneath her pillow.

Like the canvases she paints in her free time, Dottie had turned her body into its own work of art and FP never gets tired of looking at it.

“Stop it.” Dottie’s words are mumbled, the fog of slumber still weighing heavy on her consciousness.

“Stop what?” Gaze lingering a moment longer, FP slowly brings his attention back to Dottie’s face, her green eyes still closed but the serenity that sleep had given her long gone.

Dottie shifts and snuggles deeper into the bed, she can feel FP’s eyes still on her and it makes her skin itch. While the two of them have been sharing a bed for many years, it’s rare that FP stays till morning and, while she enjoys his presence, it still leaves her uneasy. “Watching me sleep. It’s weird.”

“Sorry.” Chuckle vibrating deep in his chest, FP shifts and leaves a lingering kiss on Dottie’s shoulder as he trails calloused fingertips up and down her back. He revels in the feel of her skin beneath his hand, the softness a stark contrast to his roughness and it’s a sensation he never tires of.

“What time is it?” Her words are almost a pur as FP continues his attention. The sun hasn’t quite topped the roofs of the buildings across the street and based on the colors that dance across the blank wall at FP’s back, Dottie knows it’s still early. How early would decide if she let FP continue or if she would be forced to send him on his way.

“A little past five.” FP regrets telling her the time when his hand falls back to the mattress and Dottie shifts away to pull the sheet up to cover her bare frame as she sits upright beside his still reclined form.

Dottie quirks a brow as she looks down at her friend, unamused by his lack of concern for the time and the repercussions for him being here.  “Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

“Trying to get rid of me already?” Corners of his mouth turning up with amusement, FP rests both hands behind his head and brings his dark eyes to meet the sea green ones that are looking at him suspiciously.

“Nope.” Hand still clutching the sheet against her chest, Dottie runs her free one through her disheveled red locks in an attempt to detangle the knots that always show up after a night of extra curriculars. “Just don’t want you to have to explain where you’ve been.”

The easy look that FP had begins to fade, he wasn’t sure where Dottie was going with this, but he is pretty sure he isn’t going to like it.“Explain to who?”

“The two teenagers that live in your house. Their mother. Alice Cooper.” An involuntary scowl graces Dottie’s features as she dwells a moment too long on the other two women in FP’s life.

Dottie has never gone through life claiming to be a morally good person and she carries no qualms about sleeping with a married man, but she knows FP doesn’t tell either women the full truth about what transpires between them and it always leaves a bad taste in her mouth if she lets herself think about it.

“Gladys left town.” She may be a Serpent, the mother of his children and legally still his wife, but FP and Gladys had stopped being a couple years ago. Their relationship is nothing more than a legal piece of paper. Not the it has ever fazed Dottie. “And there is nothing going on between me and Alice.”

Dottie scoffs at FP, he and ‘Acid’ Alice have been a never ending train wreck since they’d all been in high school and try as he might, Dottie knew the eldest Jones would never be able to shake the blonde completely. “There has been something going on with Alice since high school.”

“It’s over.” FP tries, but there is no weight behind his words. He’s a fool, but not fool enough to know he won’t one day go back to Cooper.

Dottie offers FP a warm smile, how many times has she said the same thing about him and yet try as she might, they always end up here again. She is no better than him. “I’m in no position to judge, FP.”

FP reaches for Dottie’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers and bringing their joined hands to his lips to place a kiss against her knuckles. They are two peas in the same messed up pod. “Why do you put up with me?”

A giggle bubbles out from Dottie’s lips and her eyes warm with affection for the man who holds her hand. “I ask myself the same thing.”

“I love you.” The words escape FP before he can stop them, but once they’re out he isn’t sorry.

Dottie quickly withdraws her hand from FP’s and makes a move to leave the bed, only to be stopped as FP grabs at her wrist to keep her in place. Her eyes close and the warm affection she had felt a moment ago is replaced with cool anxiety; she knows the look he is giving her, the way her skin begins to prickle is a sure sign. Dottie has seen and fallen for the same look a thousand times before and she refuses to let herself fall again. “Don’t do that. Don’t ruin this.”

“Why… why does that ruin this?” His words come out like a plea as he uprights himself and pulls Dottie back against his chest.

Dottie half heartedly fights against FP’s hold, but it’s mostly for show. She has tried for years to keep herself at an arm’s length from FP and the dangerous feelings he stirs in her but everytime they fall together in fury of falling clothing and hushed declarations of the heart, it gets harder to lock it all away.  “Because in this business, we can’t afford feelings like that.”

“I know you love me, too.” FP whispers before kissing the shell of her ear. He knows what love looks like, had experienced it plenty of times, and despite her harsh words and sometimes cold ways, he knows what Dottie feels for him could only be described as one thing.

A rueful smile filters across Dottie’s lips, her green eyes focusing on the buildings just outside the bedroom windows. “We’ve been friends too long for me to deny that.” Dottie can’t remember the first time they crossed the lines between friends and lovers, but at this point it was so blurry that it was only there as a reminder that their relationship couldn’t be more than what it is. “But what we have here is all we’ll ever get.”

FP rests his brow against her head, dark eyes closing at her acceptance of the way things were. He could remember a time where Dottie had wanted the stars and it hurt him to know she’d let those dreams fall by the wayside.“Don’t you ever want more?”

“No.” To much of her life had passed and she was too jaded to waste her time on wishing for things that never would be. “I have the Serpents, this bar, and your friendship. That’s all I need.”

“Fair enough.” Knowing better to believe her, but not willing to fight about it FP leaves a lingering kiss against the back of her head and releases his hold on her.

Dottie offers him a fleeting smile and slips from the bed, her nude form heading for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, her way of saying it’s time.

FP knows the routine, knows that he should find his pants and leave her, but he waits a moment longer.FP watches her leave, his dark eyes drinking in the sway of her hips, the way her hair falls over one shoulder, savoring every last glimmer of skin before she disappears from site.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really enjoying writing in that morally gray area that Dottie seems to live in. Hope you guys are too!


	5. Wasteland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt of the day from Southside Archive: wasteland

_ wasteland (noun) :  _ _ a bleak, unattractive, and unused or neglected urban or industrial area. _

A steady drizzle fell on the group of Serpents, the weather fitting for the mood the hovered between the members as they stood, gaping at the remnants of their once homes. The group of them had collected at what had once been the main entrance of their trailer park; the sign for Sunnyside long gone, but scattered debris of their homes stroon around the desolate place told them exactly where they were. 

Windows were broken, doors were ripped from their hinges and whole sections of the modular homes had been set ablaze, the only thing left of them was burned frames and melted fiberglass. Any person brave enough to venture inside one of the dwellings would find an equally bleak image; missing copper pipes, destroyed furniture, broken family heirlooms thrown about while empty liquor bottles and remnants of jingle jangle littered the floor, proof the damage was done by their rivals.

Young and old Serpents alike were left speechless at what had become of their things since they were ousted by Lodge, anger quickly bubbling through the depression at the realization their ground wasn’t even being used, instead left to rot like it was worthless. It was bad enough for the Serpents to lose the Wyrm to the Ghoulies, but to lose their homes too was a blow that would be hard to come back from.

Dottie stood amongst the group, her red hair tucked under the hood of a flannel sweatshirt and her Serpent jacket pulled tight around her; the looks on the faces of her fellow members made her heart sink, at a loss of what to do. Hotdog leaned heavily against her leg, the dog’s mood matching that of the rest of the Serpents, and Dottie idly scratched his ear as she looked on in disbelief.

“What was the point of destroying everything?” Fangs was the first to break the silence, his coffee colored eyes looking to Sweet Pea for an answer that would never come.

Sweet Pea stood stoically beside his friend, his fists clenched in anger and lips set in a thin line. The Serpents had been effectively knocked from their place in the Southside and this was the Ghoulies throwing it in their face. It was the ultimate disrespect and no one had uttered a word about retaliation, something that wasn’t sitting well with him.

“How is this the same place we used to live?” Toni could feel the tears beginning to prick at the corner of her eyes, heartbroken for the friends that now had nothing to come back to. 

Byrdie stood beside Dottie, cigarette smoke curling around her head and the butt glowing red as she took another drag, “It’s just a wasteland now. Nothing for us here.”

Byrdie’s words sent a chill through Dottie’s system that had nothing to do with the weather. The Serpents had been down and out before, always able to come back from where they’d found themselves, but something in the back of her head told Dottie this time wouldn’t be so easy.

Glancing over his shoulder, Fangs sought out Dottie amongst the group of adults in the back, if anyone knew what their next step was, it would be her. “What do we do?” 

Green eyes scanning the crowd, Dottie huffed in aggravation when there was no sign of FP or Jughead anywhere. They should be the ones here laying out a plan and helping their members get back what was taken from them. They were, after all, the leaders of this rag tag group, not her. But, then again, she was pretty sure reliability wasn’t a trait known in the Jones family.

Dottie sniffled, the drizzle starting to soak through her hood and work a chill into her bones. They needed to get in and get out before someone called them into Manetta on them for trespassing and just standing around feeling sorry for themselves wasn’t helping anyone. “Pick through the rubble, see if you can salvage anything.” 

“It’s all just trash.” Sweet Pea grunted, the idea of picking through his destroyed belongings making his stomach turn sour. He had walked away with clothes in a bag and the dog tags around his neck; he didn’t want to go back and see what he’d left of his mothers for the animals to destroy.

Dottie offered the dark haired boy a wry smile, her heart hurting for all of them.“Look through it all the same. Might be something left.”

She didn’t have much hope that there would be anything for them to find of monetary value, but there was a chance they would be able to find left behind items of a more personal nature and that would be at least something that might lighten their mood.

“Then what?” Fangs’ words were laced with defeat, as if what was to come after their search would be just as bad.

“I’ve got beer and a hot meal waiting for us back at tent city.” Giving Hotdog one last pat, Dottie slipped past the young recruits and was the first to step foot onto their old turf, if she started the search, she could only hope others would follow.

  
  



	6. Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a man just needs to drown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Southside Archives daily prompt: amber

_amber (noun): a honey-yellow color_

FP swirled his whiskey glass, dark eyes watching as the amber liquid splashed against the side of the crystal. The weather had turned in the past couple of days, the air carrying the bite of fall, the overcast weather sending a chill through him that made him pass over the beer and reach for something stronger. The Wyrm was empty, even the most dedicated of bar gowers finding something better to do on a miserable night, and besides the crooning lyrics of Frank Sinatra from the jukebox and the redhead drying the last of the dirty glasses behind the bar, FP was alone. Again.

“How can you listen to this crap,” glowering into his glass, FP’s lips set a firm line as the whiskey splashed from his glass onto the sticky counter beneath.

Watching her friend in the back bar mirror, Dottie shook her head as she continued to dry, “What crawled up your ass?”

Try as he might, FP couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from turning up at her quick retort; Dottie never was one to have much sympathy, even for the most downtrodden looking. Glass as his lips, FP peared over the rim to hold her gaze in the mirror, “Nothing.”

The look she shot back told him she knew better than that. As she always did.

Foucing on the burn of the liquor instead of his reason for falling off the wagon, FP finished off his glass, wishing he’d chosen something a little higher shelf. “I just don’t understand why, when you have an entire music library at your fingertips, you insist on listening to something like this.”

“Is that why you’re still hanging around here?” Grabbing one of her freshly dried glasses, Dottie pulled up a stool across the bar from FP and poured herself two fingers of Crown, her hand hesitating for a moment before pouring the same for him. Drinks were on her this time. “Just want to rag on my taste in music?”

Grateful for the refill, FP tipped his glass in the redhead’s direction and took a sip, savoring the velvet texture of good whiskey on his tongue. It really was a game changer. “Can’t say that’s why I’m here, but it sure is an added bonus.”

Grinning, Dottie let a comfortable silence settle between the two of them, Nat King Cole picking up where Frank left off, index finger tracing the rim of her glass. Her green eyes watched FP’s features, eyeing every little movement to pick out the tell that would enlighten her to his issue this evening; it was a hand through the hair if something went wrong with Jughead, a crack of his knuckles if him and Gladys were on the outs, a tug of his ear if Jellybean was acting like the pre-teen she was, and fidgeting with his pocket knife if something was up in the ranks.

If she were a better woman, which she was known to be from time to time, she was putting her money on family.

It wasn’t long before FP started to crack his knuckles, taking special care to be sure each one popped before moving onto the next and Dottie sipped on her drink. She should have known. “Gladys in a mood?”

FP straightened in his stool, dark eyes studying the woman sitting across from him. It spooked him that Dottie could read him so easily. “You could say that.”

He swirled the glass again, anger and hurt swirling in the pit of his stomach like the amber liquid swirled in his glass. Gladys had made a move that he hadn’t thought she was capable of. “She took the kid.”

Figuring he’d misspoke, Dottie sipped again and eyed FP, brow arched as she waited for him to correct himself. “Don’t you mean kids.”

“No.” Shooting back the last of his glass, FP’s blood began to hum with a warm buzz, one that began to dull the ache in his chest. It was the first time he’d felt warm since he found Galdy’s note this afternoon. “She took Jellybean.”

Dottie’s heart dropped at FP’s admission, her lips setting a grim line across her features at the thought of Glady’s cold and calculating actions. Gladys was a hard woman, one not afraid of playing dirty and kicking a man when he was down; she would know full well what an action like that would do to FP and had no qualms about following through. He loved both his kids, but that little girl was something extra special to him and not having her close would undo all the work he’d put in trying to clean himself up. “And Jughead?”

“He doesn’t know his mom up and left yet.” FP’s words were mumbled, his attention focusing on Dottie with a sad smile. “Figured I’d let him enjoy one last night before bringing his world crashing down.”

Knowing FP didn’t want to hear what she had to say about Gladys or her words of condolences about losing his daughter, Dottie reached behind her and popped the cork on the squat bottle, pouring out a healthy serving of the only medicine she knew. “Lets try and prop your world back up a little, then.”

Dottie knew encouraging him to drown his sorrows in amber liquor was the worst thing she could offer FP, but sometimes a man just needed someone to let him fall to pieces and then hang around to pick him up to start fresh tomorrow.


End file.
